Forgetting
by Noxxus
Summary: Harry is living skipping from apartment to apartment, case to case. When he finds the android named 'Draco' something changes. At first he keeps him around so he can find someone to sell him to, but after Draco attempts to self destruct he realizes how 'faulty' of a product he really is. He has the defect of emotions.
1. Chapter 1

**CHAPTER ONE**

The sound of typing danced through the air in his darkened room. It drummed through his ears, drilling deeper into his head. Seamlessly his fingers moved across the keyboard, almost as though they had a mind of their own. Coffee scorched his throat as he took hasty gulps, barely tasting the liquid, barely noticing the heat. His dark green eyes were trained on the document before him.

It detailed all of the clues he had on the case so far; a serial rapist who liked playing with his victims. Piecing together the puzzle was the 'fun' part. Actually finding those puzzle pieces was next to impossible. Harry chewed the inside of his cheek as he worked. It kept him awake by the tiny throbs of pain. Sometimes when he was in too deep he'd chew until he tasted blood. Today wasn't one of those days. Today was piecing together the puzzle. He continued to scan the document, drawing connections from one thing to another.

Stacks of USB sticks were scattered around him. Empty coffee mugs and scribbled sticky notes cluttered his desk. The low thrum of his air conditioner slightly masked the typing, along with the occasional rumble of the train. Pure white light spilled in through the window and pooled across the hardwood floor. It came from the streetlights, so unlike the ugly orange glow they used so many decades ago.

Three hours later the sun was rising when he finally retired to bed. He flicked his Noiz on to 'Airways' and listened to the calming sound of high winds and creaking. When he closed his eyes he could imagine he was high above the clouds, floating along in his bed. Thoughts slowly ebbed through his mind as he sank deeper. Maybe tomorrow he'd finish the case, maybe tomorrow . . . one more clue . . ..

Waking was a sordid affair as usual. Crushed dreams clung to his eyelashes and the rot of unsaid words coated his tongue. He swallowed a few times before opening his eyes. They stung, as they always did after a late night. His fingers felt tired and overused. Groaning quietly he sat up. What day was it? What case was he on?

Harry dragged himself to the closet and threw on what smelled clean. Nausea tugged on his stomach as he choked down cereal and put on deodorant. Every morning he felt so sick, so used, like the coffee had carved a hole in his stomach. It was harsh but it kept him awake without completely frying his brain. He needed to be able to string two thoughts together, consequences be damned. He kneed the door open and stepped out into the hallway.

Thirty minutes later he was tramping through what appeared to be a computer graveyard. It was a warehouse lot with hundreds upon hundreds of 'dead' electronic devices. They were either too old or too broken to be considered worthwhile. The rejects. Harry poked through the piles of dead phones long out of style. Some of them were functioning and he pocketed a few. The sun beat down on his back as he scavenged, metal and plastic glittering madly in the midday light.

"Fuck!" He hissed as a loud banging noise made him freeze.

He wasn't strictly allowed in the junk heap, so he ducked low and looked around. The sharp smell of chemicals prickled his nose as he tried to quiet his breathing to less than a whisper. His heart jumped as another bang sounded, like flesh hitting metal. His eyes turned towards the warehouse. The only thing he could think of being able to move in a junk heap was a robot, and surely no robot would be here. This wasn't nearly high level enough, not even close. If it _was_ a robot though, it would be a huge cash-out. He could sell it for scrap or if it was in good enough condition he could pawn it off.

Sweaty hands clenched, Harry approached the warehouse. The door was painted an ugly chipped red. It slid open easily. With a yowl, a mangy orange cat jumped forward and streaked past him. His heart continued to hammer wildly even as he swore and kicked a rock after the beast. Nothing. Fuck. As he was about to drop the door he saw something gleam in the darkness. His heart nearly stopped; there was a person in there.

"Are you okay?" He called, shoving the door up high enough that it clicked, "Hello?"

The form didn't answer so he rushed in. As he approached he could make out the form of a man. He had platinum gold hair that fell across his forehead. His silvery eyes glittered in the dim light, staring ahead like he wasn't even there. The man was wearing clean white clothes, his hands sprawled uselessly at his sides. Harry dropped to his knees and tried shaking him. Fuck. What if he was dead? The man wasn't breathing. Harry froze.

Very faintly he could see a pulsing green light coming from the man's wrist. Harry breathed out a sigh of relief, he wasn't human. The man appeared to be an android and an extremely good version by the authenticity of him. Harry hauled the android to his feet and found he was also as heavy as a man his size. Despite that his figure was slender so Harry was able to carry him easily. He carried him out of the warehouse.

The city Harry was living in was one of the lower class. Not everything was glass and sparkling. Some buildings were still made out of 'ugly' metals and wood. He was more comfortable with something so simple, when everything was run by machines he got edgy. People walking by him eyed him nervously as they watched him carrying the android. Their eyes blurred past him and the faces ceased to make sense. He was too focused on the task at hand to care about what anyone thought. Step one was get the android home.

Perhaps bringing an android into his house wasn't the smartest idea, but once he was there, there was no way he was going back. The android sat in the kitchen chair, still staring ahead creepily like a doll. Harry licked his teeth nervously; they tasted like rot and coffee. He'd forgotten to brush his teeth. Fuck. He'd do it tonight after he was done the case. His attention returned to the android as he paced.

Most androids of the newer makes could be turned on by calling their name and number. Harry checked his wrists and palms but no numbers were on them. Looked like a strip was in order. Trying to ignore how perverted it looked, he began to pull up the android's shirt. In some computerized looking font the name 'Draco' was across his stomach in black ink. Harry tried to ignore his nicely sculpted abs and instead focus on searching for his number. He didn't have to look far, it was on 'Draco's' chest over his heart, the number '01'. How he'd ended up with the very first make of a model he'd never heard of was beyond him.

"Draco, one," Harry said clearly after he'd pulled the shirt back down and stepped back.

Light flared behind the android's eyes and the entire body relaxed as he began to breathe. It was eerie to watch, like he was some video that had been paused. His silver eyes flickered around and he looked oddly lost. Harry was no expert but this didn't seem to be normal android behavior. He should have at least gotten a hello. Instead the android stood up and began to look around his apartment.

"Um," Harry began and paused, was Draco too intimate? The thought was stupid, he was an android, "Um, Draco. Hello."

"Is this your apartment?" The android responded, seeming politely interested, "It's very shabby."

_Well that was blunt._

"Yeah it's just temporary. It's just un- wait where are you going?"

The android was entering his bedroom. Harry followed him quickly, feeling more uneasy by the second with his stupid plan. Why the _hell_ did he bring a random android home? For scrap? How could he sell a model that wasn't brand name and not even heard of? He had more immediate worries however as the android had begun to go through his closet.

"What are you doing?" Harry asked.

"Looking for Narnia," The android shot back sarcastically.

So he had an attitude. Great. And who the hell reads something that old?

"Those are my clothes," Harry said, deciding to be blunt.

"You have plenty, you can share."

He gaped at the android for a couple seconds. Not once in his entire life had he heard of an android acting this way. It had to be some sort of specialty make, someone looking for android with a bit of a flare. Harry shut his mouth with a snap. Maybe there was some value in this android, if he was a specialty make he could be worth a lot. There was a glimmer of hope on the horizon.

It seemed only intelligent to keep his mouth shut so he watched in mute annoyance as the android rifled through his stuff. First he tried on his favorite Cyberchase shirt, then settled on a black shirt with a green serpent. Harry eyed his body with unwilling appreciation as he stripped. Androids were made damn fine looking. He was wearing grey boxers that nicely outlined the bulge in his pants. Apparently androids were also nicely endowed. Why the hell did a robot even need junk? His mind gave him the answer and his felt slightly sick, he'd forgotten about the perverts. When the android had finished dressing he figured it'd be safe to talk again.

"So who was your maker?"

The android gave him an annoyed look, "I don't even get dinner before you ask me personal questions?"

"Just answer the question," He said.

"I don't know."

"What? You don-"

"I don't," He repeated irritably, "Now what do you have to eat? I'm starving."

"Androids don't eat human food," Harry said, too baffled to keep a sharp edge in his voice.

"Well I do, and I'm _hungry_," He said, like it settled the entire matter.

Harry hadn't expected to find himself eating cold three day old pizza with an android that evening. In fact that was at the very bottom of the list of things he'd expected to do today. As he chewed on the cold, unsatisfying meal he watched the android. He moved like a regular person, occasionally smacking his food when he ate too quickly. He'd shudder sometimes, taking a deep breath when he was breathing too slowly. He'd rub his eyes like they were irritated and he'd crick his neck like it got stiff. If Harry hadn't watched him turn on, he'd have thought he was a human.

After the meal Harry sat the android in front of the TV and handed him the remote. Once he'd done that he considered any more contact unnecessary; he had a case to solve. Which sounded painfully cheesy, like he was some fresh young detective skipping happily to analyze blood stains and witness statements. In reality he was a coffee fueled ball of instability and he probably needed to take a year long nap. Before he headed to his office, he made sure to brush his teeth; the dirty feeling was really getting to him.

Once he was alone in his office it was back to him and the drumming of the keys. Perhaps having another 'living' thing in the apartment was what made him feel a tinge of loneliness. It was a fleeting feeling but it was still there. When was the last time he'd eaten dinner with someone? Lines of text blurred past his tired eyes and he realized his coffee was empty. No caffeine boost? Strange. He got himself another cup and went back to his case.

It was a miracle when the final piece clicked. It had been so obvious, which was probably the only reason his tired eyes had caught it. He began to write up the paper on his findings when a small creak made him look around. The android was standing there, his silver eyes glimmering in the dim light coming from the monitor.

"Need anything?" He asked, "I have a surplus of coffee and confidential documents but you only get one."

"What're you doing?" The android asked, pulling a chair up beside Harry.

Harry felt a stab of annoyance, "Working."

"You're a detective?" The android tilted his head, as he read the lines of text, "A stand alone?"

"That's the idea yeah," Harry said, "I do lots of standing around and I do it alone. That's why I call it 'stand alone'."

The android didn't smile at his crappy joke, but he didn't leave his side either. Harry decided it was best to ignore him and just continue working. An hour later he was done his paper and in another twenty minutes he was actually done his paper. His tired fingers were extremely relieved to hit 'Send' so his superiors could read his findings. The sun wasn't even rising which was a bonus. That night he shared his bed with a pillow hog, but as he fell asleep he thought that maybe it wasn't too bad.

* * *

**A/N** Soooo getting back into writing Drarry. Tell me what you think in a review. Thank you for your time and I hope you have a wonderful day.

**Remember to fav, follow, and/or review to show support!**


	2. Chapter 2

**CHAPTER TWO**

"We're getting soup," Harry said for the tenth time.

The grocery store he usually shopped at was rather empty today. Just a few people scurried through aisles searching for the best deal. Harry was standing in front of the meat section, feeling cold air wash over him as the android bickered with him. His skull was throbbing and he was desperately trying to keep it friendly. Only a few people glanced at their scene as they walked by. It was the second week of living with the android, but it was always the same.

Fuck. It wasn't like he was in a good mood in the first place. He'd woken up on the floor (again), found the android using his toothbrush (again), and found blue spots on some of the older bacon he'd been saving. Not to mention his advisor calling to bitch at him for not using the proper format in his paper. He'd given them the information, did it _really_ matter? Not a good way to start the day. _It's your day off stay calm_, he chanted to himself, desperate to try and end the day on a good note.

"I want hamburgers," The android argued, waving the box of meat aggressively in his face.

_Think about how much he'll sell for_, "I realize you want hamburgers but I don't have the money right now so we're getting soup."

"You have the money," He said, "I looked in your wallet."

"You looked in my wallet?!" Harry said loudly, forgetting to keep his voice down.

The android seemed unabashed, in fact he displayed no emotion, "Of course I did, I need to know how much money you have. If we're living together I need to know my expense boundaries."

Harry struggled to lower his voice, "That's a nice idea but couldn't you just _ask_?"

"Like you would have answered."

There was some merit in that statement. The android had been playing 21 Questions all morning and Harry flat out refused to answer most of them. He was just going to sell him, why bother getting close? It was stupid. Still, the android had no sense of personal boundaries, and that needed to change if they were going to live together for even a while.

Harry grabbed the box of meat from the android and placed it back on the display, "Either way we're getting soup."

That evening he spent the night browsing android mechanics and dealers. The android had gone to bed early complaining about their dinner of soup. The bright screen was burned into his eyes as it so often did. Somehow he felt a little guilty, like he was betraying the android. _He's just a machine_, drilled through his skull, _he's just a machine, he's just a machine, he doesn't have feelings_. The feeling of guilt stayed, hanging there like gelatinous slime.

In the morning he went to the electronic dump again. The android tagged along as usual. He seemed oddly keen to not be left alone. Harry tried to ignore him but today he seemed oddly talkative.

"How fast do phones go out of style?" The android said in disgust, poking at a neat stack of phones so they went cascading to the floor.

"Not as fast as androids," Harry replied.

"Of course androids go out of style faster. They have to fix all of our flaws," He said, no sarcasm in his voice.

"Your only flaw is your attitude," Harry said irritably, "There's nothing wrong with the older versions they're just building on them and making them even more functional."

He started to dig through a heap of batteries as the android voiced his next question, "Why do you always come to these dumps, what do you get out of it?"

"Phones, batteries, new parts for my computer," He listed off, "Not much but it gives me something to do."

"Hm."

Laden down with his new supplies he headed to the park. He sat on one of the benches and watched a few punks hover boarding. He still remembered his first hover board. It had been beautiful, sleek and shiny gold. Even now he could remember his parents' faces shining with pride as he pulled off tricks and stunts. Better times, lighter times.

The android sat by him, occasionally making a remark on one of the punks' failed tricks or shoddy boarding. The sky above them was brilliant blue, just like the weatherman had said and the weatherman was always right in these cities. Some people walked their pets, although whether they were made of flesh or wire was hard to tell. _A machine city for machine people_, Harry thought in disgust.

The heater had to be going off because at half past one his hands and feet were freezing. Harry rubbed his hands together furiously for friction but it created too little warmth. Grumbling, he got off his creaking spinning chair and walked across the hardwood floor. The apartment was a different world by night. Every shadow seemed to be moving and tonight a constant unease permeated the air. He was ruffling through the closet for a blanket when he heard an odd clinking noise.

His first thought was burglars, but then his eyes leaped to his bedroom door. It was ajar. The sense of unease thickened to a suffocating consistency. Moving quietly, he walked towards the kitchen. The android's back was silhouetted in the light from the streetlight shining through the window. His hair was silver in the cold light and his shoulders were oddly hunched. Harry stepped forward, unsure of what to do or say.

"What do you feel when you look inside of yourself?"

Harry jumped; he hadn't realized the android knew he was there. The question hung in the air, unsure of what the answer was. He swallowed nervously.

"I don't know."

The android turned around. His silver eyes looked empty, like an icy lake in the winter. Harry felt a sting, his eyes were painful to look at. The android looked oddly human, but broken. Something was missing from his face, he was cold. Harry continued to feel a throbbing ache. The look on his face, he looked too human.

"I feel nothing," The android said, "Not a damn thing. Do you know how that feels?"

Harry shook his head.

"It's painful," He said, his voice cracking, "It's so painful I die every breath I take, and I'm at my limit."

Harry saw him raise a hand to his temple, too late he dashed forward. A light flashed through the room and the android crumpled. Harry stood there frozen, his hands outstretched. There was a sick feeling in his gut and his cold hands were rapidly turning numb. What was he supposed to do? His mind was blank in shock, in fear. Was he dead?

Ten minutes later he was speeding through the streets, Draco strapped into the seat beside him. His hands weren't shaking anymore but his heart was pounding in his ears. That stupid, stupid android! Nausea raged in his stomach and the more he thought the more he felt, and the more he felt the more his hands began to shake again. He was just an android, he didn't matter. The words sounded false even in his own ears.

"He touched his temple, a light flashed, and he fell," Harry said to the mechanic.

Draco was laying on a sterile white table. He looked just as crumpled and broken and somehow he'd gotten thinner since they'd been in the kitchen. His bones were starting to pop. Harry was chewing the inside of his mouth hard enough to taste blood. Fuck, fuck, _fuck_.

"Where'd you find this android?" The mechanic asked as he plugged a cord into a slot under Draco's ear.

"A trash heap."

The mechanic did a double take, his blue eyes widening, "A _trash heap_?"

"I don't understand it either," Harry said helplessly, "Can you fix him?"

"He's deteriorating, breaking apart. Most androids have a self-destruct button located somewhere on their body. I'm betting his was on his temple."

For a couple minutes the mechanic worked in silence, plugging wires in and glancing back and forth between monitors. It smelled sharp in the shop, like chemicals and oil. Clear white light blazed down on them from light stripes on the ceiling. It was like a hospital, a hospital for androids.

"I can undo his self-destruct," The mechanic said, "But there's a fault with him so you might not even want him fixed."

"A fault?" Harry repeated.

"Yeah," The mechanic tapped the monitor, "He doesn't have an emotions blocker. It's what keeps androids from having too smart of an AI. It's what keeps their emotions nice and fake so they don't rise against us. His emotion panel is broken though. Fixing it should be relatively easy but it's pricey."

Harry stopped chewing his cheek and swallowed the blood, "How much?"

The mechanic looked shocked, "You sure? He could be dangerous if you-"

"_How much_?" Harry snarled.

"A thousand."

"I'll pay it," He said immediately.

It looked like it would be soup for the rest of the month. He felt confused and stupid, but he would pay it. Staring at Draco's shrunken body was driving him mad. That stupid android. He hadn't realized how attached he'd become to having someone in the apartment, how nice it was to have something living. There was no doubt in his mind, Draco was as alive as he was. He was childish and selfish but he was human, he was so human the very feeling of it tore him apart.

He found himself a chair and sat there watching as the mechanic worked. Time ticked by, every minute stretched to breaking point and snapping on the tip of the minute hand. Draco gradually began to look better; his body began to fill out again. Color returned to his skin. Harry began to breathe regularly again. The pieces began to stand back up, dominos in reverse.

"He's done," The mechanic said after unplugging the last cord.

Harry stood up and rushed over to the table. Draco's body was still thinner than usual, but he didn't look like a skeleton. He touched his cheek and it felt warm. _He's alive_, _he's alive_. His lips felt numb with relief. He paid the mechanic and took Draco to the car. _He's alive_.

"Draco, one," Harry said once they were back in his kitchen.

His eyes opened slowly and for a couple seconds he looked completely lost. A second slipped by and his eyes widened. He stared at Harry like he'd never seen him before. His eyes held galaxies, he looked alive._ He's alive_. Harry grinned weakly.

"Welcome back, Draco."

Draco looked confused and slightly defensive, "Since when do you call me Draco? Why am I here? I hit self-destruc-"

"YOU FUCKING IDIOT!" Harry yelled, "YOU IDIOT DID IT EVER OCCUR TO YOU THAT IF SOMETHING WAS WRONG I COULD TRY TO FIX IT?!"

He looked shocked, "I- I," He stared down at his hands, "I- I'm feeling something," He looked up at Harry, "What did you do?"

Harry recounted the trip to the mechanic.

"So my emotions panel was broken?" Draco said, "So now-"

"You'll be able to feel things properly," Harry poked his nose, "You're a real boy now Pinocchio."

Draco swatted his hand away but he was grinning, "Harry, thank you. But don't call me an idiot again or I'll drop your toothbrush in the toilet."

"Prat."

"Busy body."

"Go step on a Lego."

"Low blow."

And then they were laughing, and the world seemed so easy. They both laughed from their bellies, shaking as the fear they'd both felt melted off them. Harry felt it roll off in waves, every breath purging him of the toxic gas that had filled him, suffocating him.

"Good morning."

Harry opened his eyes and found silver ones staring down at him from a blurred pale face. He reached for his glasses on the bedside table and crammed them on. What was most shocking about the scene was that he had somehow woken up on the bed, something that had not happened in weeks. He yawned and sat up.

"I made you some bacon and eggs," Draco said.

"Why?" Harry asked, uneasily.

"Because aprons are sexy!" He said sarcastically as he left the room.

The bacon was cooked nice and crispy and the eggs weren't disgustingly yoke filled. Harry chewed his food while watching Draco eat. He seemed more animated than ever, like something had lit him up from the inside. His expression changed constantly as though he was having an interesting mental debate. Harry found he quite enjoyed watching his different expressions; it was the polar opposite of how he'd been before.

"So you have another case?" Draco asked as he ended the call.

"Yeah something on the ground," Harry sighed, "I need to check out the crime scene."

"I'm-"

"Not coming," Harry finished, "Sorry Draco but I can't bring you to the scene; it's not a field trip."

Draco looked annoyed but he didn't argue. Harry slipped on his jacket and grabbed one of the phones with a camera. He paused with his hand on the doorknob. He hated, _hated_, going to the crime scene. Somehow he mustered up the courage and opened the door.

"I'll be back in a couple hours," He said.

"Don't do anything stupid," Draco muttered.

Harry laughed, "Do I look the type?"

"Yes."

* * *

**A/N** So the second chapter is done. Thank you for all of your feedback on the first chapter. I appreciate every fav, follow, or review as it shows me you're interested in what I have to write and helps me improve. Thank you for taking your time to read my story.

**Remember to fav, follow, and/or review to show support!**


	3. Chapter 3

**CHAPTER THREE**

He hung up the phone breathing hard, emotions running through him like electricity through a wire. He was burning so hot he'd sear anyone who touched him. Bile tasted in his throat. Why'd they have to call today of all days? Harry bumped his head against the wall and sighed, trying to let go of his anger. Smashed beer bottles filled his mind, his back ached. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

"I'm thinking we should go to the arcade today. Apparently the new ones are really cool."

Draco was talking to him, he needed to react. He turned towards him, trying to keep the venom out of his eyes.

"I'm not feeling the arcade today," He said, his throat oddly constricted.

"Come on!" Draco whined, "It'll just be for a while. You just got money from a recent case, consider it a treat."

"I said no!" He snarled loudly.

He saw the hurt in Draco's eyes and felt instant shame. His mouth worked, spitting up and swallowing words before they could be spoken. The phone call was still echoing through his head, incensing him further. Anger. The idea of becoming like _him_, some angry dick was driving him insane. He needed to say something.

"Are you okay?" Draco asked.

"I'm fine."

No, that wasn't what he'd wanted to say. The wrong words had spilled out, a carefully sculpted reflex. His toes clenched as hot waves of anger blocked him from saying more. It wasn't fair to Draco, not even close. It was their third month of living together, he couldn't ruin it all now. Phrases and apologies were stuck to the inside of his throat and he couldn't vomit them out. They clung there burning his flesh.

"You were on the phone," Draco said, "Did something happen."

"My parents called."

"Are they okay?" He asked.

Rage burned his throat, "They're perfectly fucking fine."

"If you're feeling bad just talk to me," Draco said angrily, his own temper flaring.

"Why would I? You're just an android you couldn't possibly understand."

Harry froze, hoping beyond hope that he hadn't said that out loud, but the look on Draco's face said otherwise. Those silver eyes glittered with pain and Harry felt his anger evaporate. Fuck. He always said the wrong thing! He opened his mouth to apologize and froze at the sight of tears. Draco was crying, actually crying.

"Don't cry," Harry said awkwardly.

"I don't know why I'm crying!" Draco gasped through the sobs, "My chest hurts."

"I'm sorry," He said, "I'm so sorry, you know I didn't mean that."

"You fucking ass," He snarled back, "Your words shouldn't have hurt, I don't care." His voice broke on the last word.

Harry wasn't sure what to do. The crying had caught him completely by surprise. Words had forsaken him, leaving him dumb in their absence. Awkwardly, he hugged Draco. His body was warm, wonderfully warm. Hot tears splashed down onto his shoulder as Draco heaved. It surprised him when Draco hugged him back. Hitting him probably would have been more appropriate. They stood like that until Draco finally got his breathing under control.

"You idiot, you stupid prat!" Draco muttered in his ear.

"I'm sorry, I really shouldn't have said it," Harry said, "I'm really sorry."

The android lightly thwacked him, "You idiot. Did the phone call upset you that much?"

"I'm not on good terms with my parents," Harry mumbled.

He let go of Draco and stepped back. His shoulder was wet where Draco had leaned on him, He felt bad for making him cry. Silently he promised himself he would make it up to him. It hurt hurting him.

"What happened with your parents?" Draco asked, wiping his eyes.

"The typical sob story," Harry sighed, "My dad was a party animal and his alcohol abuse got out of control. My mom loved another man. It doesn't matter."

"I'm sorry."

"Let's go the arcade," Harry said.

"If you're not feeling okay-" Draco began but Harry interrupted him.

"I'll feel better if I have something to get my mind off of it."

Losing himself in the virtual world was better than brooding on things he couldn't change. The arcade was packed with people when they arrived. A rainbow of colors came from all of the screens as kids, teens, and adults all sat playing games. They bought their tokens and began browsing.

Draco immediately found the goriest first person shooter and started playing. He seemed to take an uncanny delight in killing the pixel people, something that made Harry a bit uneasy. He watched the android's face while waiting to respawn. A little smirk curled his lips every time he achieved a kill and his eyes were focused on the screen so intensely that they rarely blinked.

"Winner, winner!" Draco cheered when the scoreboard showed and he'd topped it.

"How're you so good at this?" Harry asked grumpily.

He turned a smug smile on him, "I have a natural flair for many things."

Harry couldn't help but feel that smug smile was something special and it made him feel a bit better. He sat out the next game and watched Draco try out a slasher. Once again he topped the scoreboards. It had to be an android thing, being good at games.

After the arcade they stopped at one of the local fast food joints for dinner. It was done up in shades of orange, red, and cream and was packed. Despite that most people weren't talking and merely clicking away on their phones or playing games on hand held devices. Harry and Draco stepped into line and began the wait to place their order.

"What do you want?" Harry asked, gesturing at the screens displaying meals.

"A burger and fries," Draco said.

The people in front of them moved on and the woman smiled at them, "May I take your order?"

"Two burger meals and two large drinks," Harry said, smiling back politely, "Extra cheese on one of the burgers."

Five minutes later they were seated at one of the tables. The chair was uncomfortable. Harry shifted around in annoyance as he watched Draco eat. He really did love burgers; there was something joyful about the way he was eating. Light was in his eyes, so bright it burned right through Harry. And God, was he dark at the moment. He needed that light.

"You're not eating," Draco pointed out.

Harry looked down at his meal and picked up a fry, "Sorry."

It smelled of fast food in the store and it turned his stomach. Greasy fries, burgers made of who knows what, wilted salad, cheap soft drinks. People plugged into machines. A machine world for machine people. Draco was watching him worriedly. He was the most human person in the whole damn room. Harry forced down a fry that reminded him of nights of take out and screaming.

His parents calling had turned his taste buds to poisonous glands that turned food to ash. He wanted to appear normal for Draco but it wasn't working. Ashes. Fucking ashes. They clogged his throat, stuffed his noise, burned his eyes, and filled his lungs. The burger in front of him looked disgusting, but he shoved it down his throat. Chewing, swallowing, licking the inside of his teeth, sucking down mustard flavored spit. Rinse and repeat. Smile at the small talk.

Even stuck in his own storm he kept a close eye on Draco. It still felt like yesterday that he sat hunched in that mechanic's shop. He knew Draco had suffered and he still didn't know how deep the damage ran. He knew Draco was fragile. Fuck, he knew that. Somehow he wanted to fix Draco, he wanted to make him happy. No matter how many arcades, burgers, and late nights it took.

"You look sad."

Harry twitched as he realized Draco was talking to him, "Sorry."

"Stop apologizing," Draco said, "There's no need to be sorry."

Harry looked down, "Sorry."

He smiled gently, "It's okay Harry. I'm not going to lose my shit just because you're having a bad day. You helped me out incredibly, I'll do anything to repay that."

Draco stood up, "Come on, let's do something fun."

Harry stood up as well. They left the fast food joint and Draco gave him directions as he drove. As houses flew by Harry grew a general idea of where they were going. His thoughts were confirmed when they arrived at the Arena. It was a giant grey building covered in neon signs and spray paint. Harry parked and looked at Draco.

"Why're we here?" He asked.

Draco shrugged, "I saw your picture of you winning the hoverboard tournament. I figured this would cheer you up."

Harry felt a bit of shock, he hadn't realized Draco was so attentive, "Thanks."

They entered the Arena and paid to rent their boards. Harry's was deep purple with the pattern of tiger stripes on it. Draco's was sleek silver with a single cat's skull etched on it. It smelled sharp like chemicals as they entered the inner arena where the action happened. The air was cold and moved at a slight current around the room. Harry knew it was to keep the boards nice and cool to avoid overheating.

Harry got on his board and tapped the start pad. After three seconds the board began to hover. For a second he wobbled but old instincts set in and he regained his balance. It was like shedding a skin, he felt relieved and lighter. _Thud_. Draco had fallen off his board.

"So there're some things you can't do," Harry said, supressing a grin.

"Shut up," Draco grumbled, getting up, "I just lost my balance, nothing more."

"It helps if you try to relax."

After a few more falls Draco finally managed to get on his board properly. He looked like a newborn deer wobbling to take its first few steps. Harry circled him lazily, giving bits of advice that usually earned cheeky responses. He held Draco's arm as he showed him how to accelerate.

"Easy, nice and easy," Harry murmured, carefully steering him, "Watch your tilt you're leaning a bit too far."

"This thing is unstable," Draco said, "I feel like I'll fall any second."

"Most people feel that way their first time," Harry said, smiling.

"But not you," He muttered.

Harry shrugged, "Some people just have a 'natural flair'."

They began to slow down, nearing the corner of the arena. Draco began to wobble as they turned and Harry pulled him upright every time he began to dip. He really was like a baby deer. After their first turn they began to speed up, the hoverboards getting higher off the ground with the increased speed. Harry felt freer than he had in a while.

Bugs buzzed under the streetlight, their wings tiny blurs. Harry stared up at them, his lungs taking in the cool night air. It had been a bad day, but the parts with Draco had been good. He felt good. The occasional car drove by, lighting up the dark parking lot. Harry closed his eyes as he listened to the rumble, feeling tiredness wash over him.

His father had been an alcoholic, a sick man driven by his addiction. James. The name felt poisonous to Harry. At first things had been normal, or as normal as they could be. James was home most nights and when he was he was pleasant. But his breath always stank of alcohol. When he got mad, he got _mod_. Eventually it got to the point where James and Harry's mother fought every night. James' rage when he found out about Harry's mother's other lover had been terrible. Even now Harry could still feel the glass sticking out of his back.

As if on cue there was a sudden crashing noise. Harry turned and looked at the empty parking lot. Unease squirmed through his gut. He'd better get back to the apartment; he'd just meant to spend a few minutes grabbing a pop. The can was cool in his sweaty hands as he stood up. There was a sudden burst of sound and something hard smashed him over the back of his head.

* * *

**A/N **This was a bit late going up but I assure you I'm still working on this story. I had a lot of issues figuring out what I wanted to do with this chapter. Thank you for reading!

**Review, fav, or follow to show support.**


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